Happy Tears
by AznFlyingKitty
Summary: A blindfold prompt fill.  Dean likes roleplaying with their junk.  Sam is not amused.  Wincest, warnings inside.


**A/N:** ... This a(n edited) response to my own prompt at blindfold over at LJ. Yeah, yeah, I know. Hush. Btw, morrezela did a second fill! If you wanna check it out, I should be putting up a link to the prompt and all subsequent responses on my profile sometime later today.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural, obviously, because the boys would be doing stuff like _this_ if I did.

**Warnings:** Uh... crack, cussing/cursing (occasionally used as endearments), dick roleplay, handjobs, hints of fluff, incest, ridiculousness, slash/yaoi/male on male lovin'/whatever the heck you wanna call it... Yeah, that should cover just about everything.

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><p>Sam can't exactly pinpoint when this... ugh, <em>kink<em> started. Yes, he likes a bit of role-play now and again, but this is totally _not what he meant_. He's pretty sure he's scowling, which is probably why Dean smirks, readjusts his grip, and clears his throat.

"Hey, Baby Sammy," Dean rumbles, all deep and growl-y, like some really dumb bear on those increasingly stupid cartoons. It's his 'Deanpala' voice, and Sam really does not want to be looking at this train wreck that's about to happen. He flops backwards onto the bed, flings an arm over his eyes, and braces himself for the worst. "D'ya know why Sam is in such a pissy mood?"

Dean clears his throat again, and then an incredibly high-pitched, really fucking annoying voice grates over Sam's ears. "Why, no, Mr. Deanpala. But if you ask me, I think he's just on his period."

Sam snarls, snapping his head up to glare at his grinning older brother. "Okay, my dick _would not_say that. For one, it's a dick. And dicks. Do. Not. Talk."

"Ours do," Dean says, emphasizing his words when he uses his hands to swing their junk around. His eyebrows do that self-satisfied, half-joking and half-flirty wriggle, and Sam chooses to completely ignore that fluttery feeling he gets in his chest while he addresses his second point.

"For two, it's MY dick, and I'm pretty sure that MY dick would not say anything that makes me seem like a girl _because I have a dick_. Which girls do not have."

Dean just stares at him flatly, unamused, and the motel is quiet for a few moments beyond the rattling of the A/C. Sam groans, drops his head back down, and shoves the heels of his hands against his eyes. "If you're gonna do it, then just do it already. Before I kill myself. Or castrate you. Jesus." He pauses slightly, then adds, "Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean says, under his breath like Sam doesn't hear him anyway, then goes back to whatever the heck he's doing, this time jerking his hand to move their dicks, like... Like dolls.

"Kill me now," Sam moans to the ceiling.

"I don't know why he does that," Dean says, trying to sound innocent while using that high-pitched voice again, but he pretty much sounds like a pedo. Or something.

Okay, maybe Sam's a little biased. But his dick is not small, or innocent, or _cute_, or anything that that comes to mind when Dean calls it 'Baby Sammy'.

Christ. Why does he even let Dean call it that?

"Do you think... maybe he doesn't like me?" Dean continues, with an exaggerated sniffle. His thumb flicks down to rub against Sam's sac, and suddenly Sam's shifting his hips in response to the sudden boner he's popped. He peeks an eye open to see Dean slowly stroking his own hard on, and a wink is tossed his way before his brother keeps going. "That maybe... he acts that way because he _wants_to be a girl?"

Sam groans, half because of the utter ridiculousness that has just spewed from Dean's mouth, and half because Dean's finger is teasing his slit, smearing precome around the head before scraping a fingernail oh-so-gently against it. Sam shivers, bucking into his brother's grip when 'Deanpala' starts to talk.

"Well, I dunno," 'Deanpala' muses. Sam jerks and curses breathlessly when he feels Dean's cock bump into and slide along his own. He spreads his legs a little, and Dean shuffles forward on his knees, greedily taking up every bit of space Sam has to offer. "Does he like to use you very often?"

Dean is steadily jacking Sam off now, wrist twisting deliciously with every upstroke, and Sam's hands stray to his nipples. He pinches and twists them with his fingers, rolling his eyes at Dean when he insists on talking.

Roleplaying. With their dicks. Alone.

And his brother called _him_a geek.

"Well, he uses me to piss," 'Baby Sammy' says thoughtfully, and Sam grunts when Dean's thumb makes itself comfortable at his glans. "But I guess he has to, huh?" Dean's hand is moving faster, gripping harder, and Sam is shamefully close to blowing his load already. "I mean, he..." Dean stops here to really get the fake waterworks started, but Sam is kinda too horny to care right now.

At least Dean's hand hasn't stopped.

Dean's voice is still annoyingly high and unnatural when he continues, not choppy or different at all, and Sam glances down to see Dean's hand on his own dick is moving slower than a snail.

"He didn't really like getting laid in school. College-I don't want to talk about that." Sam winces at how true that is, and then goes back to being distracted by Dean's ridiculously incredible hand. Dean is looming over him now, pulling out all the stops, and he breaks down into high-pitched tears with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Maybe... Maybe he really _doesn't_want me!"

His brother pulls off this really epic, mind-blowingly awesome maneuver, and Sam is coming, just like that. Dean milks him all the way through his orgasm and, at the end, in a husky, aroused, but thankfully normal and one hundred percent _Dean_voice, says, "Fantastic timing you've got there, champ."

Sam blinks lazily up at him. "Are you finally done?" he asks, relieved. It's not often that Dean gets bored enough with the trifles of hunting to actually do something like this, but when he does, it's kinda impossible to get him to stop before he's ready. The only thing Sam can think of off the top of his head that'll do the trick is dying from embarrassment, which he comes pretty close to doing every time his brother pulls out his "special voices."

Dean just chuckles and clears his throat. His voice is growl-y again the next time he talks, and Sam wants to slam his head against the wall a few times. "Oh, no!" he cries out in mock distress. "Did you just cry, Baby Sammy? I'm so sorry; here, I'll make it up to you!"

His own spunk gets rubbed into Sam's cock, and he flinches at the oversensitivity. "Oh, God. You are _not _serious," he groans, but apparently Dean is, because 'Baby Sammy' is up and ready to go for round two in just a few minutes, which should be almost impossible.

Ah, fuck it. Sam has learned long ago to just accept that anything is possible with Dean.

His eyes lock with mirthful green, and Dean's hands abandon their dicks to settle onto Sam's hips. He rocks against Sam's groin, grinding their erections together, and Sam can already feel his control slipping through his fingers. Dean nips his left pec, then the base of his neck, his jaw, and finally his earlobe before whispering in his normal-thank God!-voice.

"So good for me, Sammy. So pretty when you come and let me... _mmm!_ handle you like that. Nngh, fuck, baby boy, so close. C'mon, sweetheart, come for me. _Come_."

Sam tosses his head back and comes, just like his big brother tells him to, helpless to resist. He grips Dean's biceps and feels his muscles shake as Dean follows right behind him. Air whooshes out of him when Dean collapses, but his warm, comforting weight is better than any blanket. Sam sighs contently and wraps his arms around his brother, nuzzling his cheek as Dean snuggles him back.

After a moment, Sam snorts. "How was that not making my dick 'cry' again?"

Dean huffs a laugh into his hair. "Happy tears, Sammy," he says. "Haven't you ever heard of happy tears?" Sam can feel a faint smirk against his skin, and he finds himself half dreading and half curious about what Dean has to say next. "You obviously haven't. It's okay, though, little bro. Deanpala will make Baby Sammy cry happy tears for as long as they'll be alive."

Okay. Yeah, um. No.

"You're unbelievable."

"Bitches can't get enough of me, Sam," Dean says, teasing. "Like you."

"Jerk," Sam grumbles. A comfortable silence settles over them while Sam mentally replays what just happened. He frowns. "I do like my dick," he says. "And I don't wanna be a girl."

Dean's silent, but Sam wants to kick himself because he knows his big brother is just trying not to laugh out loud.

"Then, uh," Dean starts, pausing to make a little cough that sounds suspiciously like laughter, "you should make sure Baby Sammy knows that. We should set up group therapy sessions, so he's not-"

"Dean," Sam interrupts. He loves his brother, but not that much. "Stop. Just... No."

Dean finally gives in to his urge and laughs, and Sam _knows_that if his brother should ever want to do this again, Sam definitely won't be the one stopping them.

"Jerk."

end.


End file.
